Of Masks and Time Machines
by Tsy Descartes
Summary: The 10th Doctor and Rose take a stroll in 19th century Paris, but everything doesn't go quite as expected when they meet a certain masked man. All the while, a secretive alien plot is unfolding under their noses... Rated T just in case for occasional violence.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_Paris, 1881._

If there's one thing to note about the French people, it's that they are observant. When something strange happens, expect to have everyone involved. So when one afternoon in late March, when a mysterious blue box came whizzing from the sky and landed somewhere in the countryside west of Paris, it was hardly surprising that a bad scandal arose. Some said it was those cursed Brits projecting things over the channel. Others claimed it was a more local affair, that it had something to do with some corrupt politician. That was the current accepted theory among the Parisians, as there was more proof: the blue box had disappeared. It couldn't have been the Brits, because it there was a Brit in town, _everyone _would have known about it. _Everyone._

But then things happened, and Paris forgot all about that strange blue box. Years would go by without ever seeing it again. The people who did see it – those who still remembered – would blame it on that silly corrupt politician. All except for a handful. A handful of very special, yet very ordinary people whose existence would forever be changed because of it.

* * *

_WHOO-SH. WHOO-SH. WHOO-SH._

"Rose, grab that lever!"

"Which one?"

"The big green one! Hurry! Not that one, the one with the stripes!"

_Crash! Bang! Pop!_

Rose and the Doctor hung on for dear life as the TARDIS began to shake and tumble through the time vortex, as violently as ever, sending its two passengers sprawling about the control room. Suddenly, there was a few seconds of calm before the time machine crashed into the ground, causing the Doctor to fall face-first onto the ground. Rose, who was still holding on, started to giggle. The Doctor had to grin too. But the TARDIS wasn't done yet, jumping a little more and causing Rose to fall right alongside her friend. The pair of them started laughing like maniacs before the Doctor finally managed to choke out, "You okay?"

"Yup!" his companion called, sitting up, a bright grin still on her face.

The Doctor smiled back, jumping up and taking a glance at one of the screens. He tapped it a couple times and tapped some buttons.

"So, Doctor, where are we this time?"

"Well, Rose," he replied with a smirk on his face. "I took you to Barcelona the planet, now I'm taking you to Barcelona the city!"

Rose gasped with glee. "I've never been to Italy, this'll be exciting!"

"Oh yes, and in the future!"

Rose arched an eyebrow playfully. "Just how far into the future?"

The Doctor glanced back at the screens. "Not too far, 25th century. The Sagrada Família hasn't been destroyed yet, luckily."

"The Sagrada whata?"

The Doctor snorted. "It's a church. You'll see."

He walked over to the TARDIS's doors and pulled one open, then did a grand dramatic bow. "Ladies first."

Rose sighed gracefully, playing along, and whispered, "You're too kind, Doctor sir," before doing a little twirl and stepping out. Into grass.

They were in a large field, with nothing besides green as far as the eye could see. The Doctor followed behind Rose and scratched his head, clearly a bit confused.

"Well, the TARDIS isn't exactly the most reliable machine ever, is it?" Rose said quickly.

The Doctor nodded and tapped on his watch a few times. "Hang on, it's re-calibrating." He paused. "1881." He looked up at Rose. "How did I get seven centuries off?"

"Maybe you're having an off day," Rose replied, "because we're not in the right place, either." She pointed behind the TARDIS at what appeared to be a small city landscape, but one building stood out in particular.

"That's the Eiffel Tower," she continued. "We're in Paris."

The Doctor's face brightened. "Hey, at least I got the planet right," he said jokingly.

"Still, I've never been to France, either. Shall we explore?" Rose asked.

He snickered. "Sure, but not in those clothes."

Rose frowned. "Whadya mean?"

"I mean that it's the 19th century and you're wearing jeans and a shirt that says Mickey Mouse. Don't want anyone to get ideas. Change into something a bit more Victorian."

His companion sighed. "Fine." She went back into the TARDIS, but stopped half-way and turned around abruptly. "What about you?"

The Doctor pulled his brown floor-length jacket further closed, and shrugged. "I think I'm okay. Just grab me a top hat."

She giggled a bit and closed the TARDIS's doors as the Time Lord was left alone to observe the majestic and inspiring scenery of a field of wheat and a lone cow.

Finally Rose appeared, dressed in a long blue dress that was typical day wear for that time period. She had a on large cameo brooch and matching earrings. Her long, blonde hair was tied back in a bun, albeit not very neatly. The Doctor stared at her for a few moments before accepting the brown top hat, suddenly becoming very interested in it. _She's gorgeous in that dress, _he thought, blushing profusely as he did.

Ignoring that last thought, his eyes flickered up to the long walk across grassy fields they would have to take to actually get to Paris. "You know," he pointed out, "we could just materialize inside the city."

Rose shook her head, giving him an odd glance. "And risk jumping a few centuries? I don't want to have to get changed again, thanks. I'm starting to like this dress."

The Doctor scoffed. "It won't be a few centuries, I've already locked onto the time zone. It won't be any more than a year."

She sighed. "Are you sure?"

"Yup, no more than a year," he repeated. "Same fashion, same Paris. Allons-y!"

Rose reluctantly entered the TARDIS, followed by a less reluctant Doctor. Before he entered, he turned out slightly. He could have sworn he heard something. It almost sounded like a faint cry. He looked around, before the cow mooed again. The cow produced a similar sound to what he heard. The Doctor made a face at the poor animal before retreating back into his TARDIS.

* * *

_WHOO-SH. WHOO-SH. WHOO-SH._

This time, it wasn't nearly as bumpy a ride. Within a few minutes the Doctor declared it safe to leave the TARDIS, and the two cautiously stepped outside. They appeared to be in some sort of tunnel, a disgusting tunnel at that, with all sorts of green and yellow slime dripping from the ceiling and oozing out of cracks through the walls. However, neither seemed distracted by this as they peered into the tunnel. They were used to this sort of thing.

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and buzzed around. He squinted to read the data. "Well, we're in Paris. In fact," he continued, "We're directly under the Opera Garnier."

Rose frowned. "So we're in the sewers?"

He made a face. "Not quite. Even though Paris does have a sewage system by now – they were installed in the late 19th century with the Industrial Revolution and all that – these bricks are too old to have only been here a few years. So we're probably in the Paris Underground – a large network of catacombs."

Rose nodded intently. She paused before asking, "How long since we left the outskirts?"

The Doctor glanced at his watch. "Actually, we're about two weeks _back_ in time. Not too shabby, if I do say so myself." He looked quite pleased.

Rose looked up. "I think I see a light, let's go check it out!"

He extended his arm for her to grasp, like a proper gentleman should, though provoking quite a few giggles on his companion's part. Together they strolled along the tunnel for a few minutes until finally the light Rose had previously seen was right in front of them.

They both peered up from the dark abyss. They could both see the clouds above and a blue sky, and a ladder that led straight up to the cobblestone streets of Paris. Rose, lifting up her skirts, began to climb upwards.

Suddenly, a dark figure emerged from the tunnel. Rose was still climbing but the Doctor spun around on his feet. He peered out into the darkness, staring at the figure. "Hello," he said cheerfully. This time, his companion turned her head around as well and took a look at the figure. She waved.

The Doctor extended his hand in greeting. "My name is the –" The figure, in lightning speed, moved directly beside him, holding a piece of rope and firmly fastening it around the Doctor's neck. He began to choke, grasping the rope with both his hands, desperately attempting to free himself of the madman's clutches.

During this time, Rose had jumped down from the ladder and was now flailing her arms about, trying to think of something to help him. "The sonic!" she cried. "Doctor, use the sonic!"

Quickly, he took out his screwdriver and tried to use it against the lasso, but with no avail. Rose was getting panicked now as she watched her best friend slowly get the life sucked out of him. In a desperate attempt to save his life, she took her fist and swung it in the general direction of where she assume the figure's head would be.

The man let go of the rope, and the Doctor stumbled forward and collapsed on the ground, panting for breath. Unfazed by a little punch, the dark figure pulled out a long sword and pointed it threateningly in Rose's direction.

Panicked, she took a step backwards and tripped, falling over. The figure pointed the sword at her throat and stared at her. They were closer to the light, and she could see that he was a tall man, covered in a long, black cloak. Looking out at her from under the hood were two immense, yellow eyes that seemed to hold all the darkness and sadness in the world.

Suddenly, the sword began to glow a bright red color and the man dropped it, letting out a pained yelp. Rose quickly rolled away so that the weapon wouldn't fall on her. She stood up and turned around. The Doctor held his screwdriver at the ready, and had a nasty scowl on his face, gone into serious mode. The man backed up as if he was planning on fleeing, but Rose quickly kicked him in his sensitive area and he fell to the ground with a loud bang, groaning a bit in pain.

Rose and the Doctor stood in silence, panting and staring at their defeated foe.

**SOOOOO...**

**Whadya think? Who is this mysterious man? (kinda obvious, but whatevers) Please R & R!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Rose and the Doctor had tied up the mysterious figure and were now carrying him to the TARDIS. They laid him in front of the time machine as the Doctor took the key out of his pocket. However, Rose noticed that the doors were slightly ajar, and pushed one open. He froze and stared at the doors.

"Rose," he said quietly. "Did you leave the TARDIS unlocked?"

She shook her head slowly. They exchanged a worried look and he gently pushed the second door open, peering inside. He quickly sonic'ed the room and declared that there were no life forms detected. Rose sighed relief and helped the Doctor carry the man inside.

"Why was the TARDIS open?" she asked slowly.

The Doctor ran his hands through his hair and let out a long breath. "Rose, did you notice.. that all the lights in here are off?"

She gasped as she looked up and realized this was true. "What's going on? What's wrong with the TARDIS?"

"She's dead. Stone cold." He patted one of the levers on the controls. "Right now, this wooden box is just that: a wooden box."

"How can that be?" Rose exclaimed. "That would need _really _powerful alien technology, right? And you can't find any aliens?"

The Doctor sonic'ed in a full 180 degrees to confirm this, shaking his head. "Just humans and a Time Lord for miles around." He frowned. "There aren't even any dogs, I always thought there were lots of dogs in Paris. Lots of poodles."

"Doctor!" Rose sighed, amused.

"Right, sorry." He scratched his head. "Anyways, the only species other than the Time Lords that would be able to completely disarm a TARDIS would be the Daleks, and..." He paused. "Yeah, I think that's it."

She gritted her teeth. "So, are we on the lookout for Daleks then?"

The Doctor closed his eyes. "I hope not. That's all we'd need, with this crazy maniac at our hands."

He turned and stared at the man who was squirming on the TARDIS floor. Giving him their full attention, Rose knelt down beside him as the Doctor began to do a full-body scan with his screwdriver.

'Who is he?' Rose thought. 'Why did he attack us? We didn't do anything to him...' She wondered what could possibly have been running through his mind when he tried to kill the Doctor. She shook her head, not believing that anyone could hurt for no reason. All through her adventures with the Doctor, they had been frequently kidnapped and attacked, but there was always a reason. Greed, revenge, hatred, these were all horrible motives, but they were motives nonetheless, they were reasons. It was one of the things that got her through the day, through the adventures, through all the times she thought she'd die or that the Doctor would die - it was that everything happened for a reason.

What was _his_ reason?

The Doctor finished his scan and held up his screwdriver to read. "Heavy injury to the face, rest of him is fine." He looked down at the man and knelt beside the man. "Can you tell me your name?"

The man was silent. Finally, he muttered, "Je ne parle pas français."

Rose frowned. "The TARDIS isn't translating." She paused. "Because it's not working."

"Right," the Doctor said solemnly. He pulled a small device out of his pocket that looked like a cordless earbud. He handed it out to her. "Here, put it on." She did. "They'll translate for the time being. Might not work 100%, but it's better than nothing."

"I learned a little French too, when I was in high school," she said. "And you speak it fluently, right?" He nodded, and they turned their attention back to the strange man.

"Why did you attack us?" he questioned, this time switching to French. No response.

"Can you tell me your name?" he repeated.

The answer that was given made the Doctor's blood run cold and his two hearts skip a beat.

"My name," he whispered in a raspy voice, "..is Erik."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"My name ..is Erik."

The Doctor gasped, and almost fell backwards onto the floor. "No," he murmured. "Impossible."

Rose laughed. "My dear Doctor, I'm afraid many things you have deemed impossible have turned out to be true."

Still he stood there, his eyes fixed on the man before him, frozen in place. Slowly, he stepped a few paces backwards and gestured for Rose to follow him.

"Rose," he whispered. "Have you ever heard of the story.. of the Opera Ghost?"

She paused. "I've heard of it," she whispered back. "But I don't know how it goes. What does it have anything to do with –" She suddenly glanced around at the strange man in the cloak.

"Oh." She frowned. "You think he's the Opera Ghost?"

The Doctor nodded. "Same name and everything."

"So.. What do you wanna do?"

A mischievous grin appeared on his face. "Go with the flow, Rose." He turned around and began to address the Ghost.

"Monsieur le Fantome," he started. The man tilted his head in confusion. "Oh, don't give me that look. I know very well who you are."

The Ghost growled. "Who sent you? The Daroga? Oh, I'll kill that man, that blasted booby."

The Doctor chuckled. "No, he did not send me." He paused. "Tell me, do you know of a singer named Christine Daae?"

He did not reply, and merely sat there, determined not to answer him.

"I see you're the booby here right now. Let me rephrase, _what have you done with Christine Daae?_"

The Ghost snarled in anger. "What do you mean, _what have I done with her? _I am merely teaching her to sing! She's the world's greatest hidden gem! With my training, she will reach the stars!"

"And you suppose pretending to be a spirit will help her with that?" the Doctor said quietly.

He did not get a response.

"When is Hannibal scheduled to play?"

"Rehearsals are not to start for another few days. The opera has not even been announced to the cast members! How – how did you –" He let out a huff of air. "Ah, you are good, Monsieur. Perhaps even a worthy opponent to Erik."

The Doctor frowned. "We shall see." He stepped over to the other side of the console. Rose followed him.

"What was that all about?" she whispered harshly.

"Oh, don't get worked up, Rose," he answered. "Just establishing my relative timeline."

"English, please."

He sighed. "I've read the book: I know the story. I just wanted to see how far along we are in it."

"I see."

He didn't say anything more, and began fiddling with the controls in an attempt to reboot the TARDIS. Nothing happened. Obviously annoyed, the Doctor jerked open one of the hatches and pulled out what appeared to be an old 18th century lamp. He hung it above them and cranked it up to full power. Light shone upon the three of them and for the first time, Rose could get a good look at their captive.

He was tall and lanky, as she had previously noted in the tunnel. He was wearing a long black cloak with a hood that cast most of his face in shadow. He was wearing strangely formal attire: dark gray slacks and a black dress shirt, complete with a similarly coloured vest and tie. Rose slowly raised her eyes to below his cloak, somehow fearing what might be under it. And then she saw it: white. A white face mask. She covered her mouth to refrain from gasping.

Little did she know, the Ghost was looking her over in the same way she did him.

"Mlle. Giry?"

Rose frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Marguerite Giry, you horrid dancing _brat!_ You planned this all along, didn't you, you and your filthy ballet rat friends! How dare you even –"

"Don't you speak another word against her!" the Doctor yelled, suddenly becoming very defensive of his companion. "First of all, you will refrain from using any filthy language around us, do you understand?" The Ghost did nothing for a few seconds, before nodding slowly. "Secondly, she is not Meg Giry. Her name is Rose."

"Hey, I can speak for myself, you know," she muttered.

"My name is Rose Tyler, it is certainly not Marguerite. That's really old-fashioned," she said loudly. "But then again, we are in 19th century France."

"Don't you know your own ballet troupe?" the Doctor interrupted.

"Of course I do!" he snapped. "And I'm telling you, she looks exactly like the Giry girl."

The Doctor turned to Rose and stared at her for a few seconds before turning back to the Ghost. He motioned around his head where hair would usually hang on a woman. "But Meg has blond – blonder hair.. Very blond..."

"Not in my books, Monsieur." He grunted. "You know Erik's name, Erik does not know yours. He demands to know."

"Stop talking in third person, act like a normal human being, and maybe you'll know," Rose but in.

"Act like a normal human being," the Ghost repeated. "How Erik wishes this to be so."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Well, call him the Doctor."

"Doctor who?"

"Exactly," answered the Doctor.

They all sat in silence for a few seconds, the Ghost obviously thinking hard to try to understand this.

"I suppose we'll have to release you," the Doctor said finally. Rose gave him a worried look, but said nothing. "On a few conditions, though."

"Name them."

"You'll have to promise me you won't try to attack either of us, ever again."

"I give you my word of honor."

"Next, you'll show us how to get up to the theatre. A clear, trap-free passageway that we can navigate ourselves."

"Consider it done."

"And no talking in third person," Rose chimed in.

"Fine," Erik spat, albeit after a pause.

"Well then, Opera Ghost," the Doctor said, with a twinkle in his eye, "you've just earned yourself a release."

**[Not too much going on in this chapter.. But I have some action planned for the next one, don't you worry! As usual, I own nothing. Though I'd very much like to.]**


End file.
